


Rest Now my Little Solider.

by MaskZodia



Series: Learning to heal my dear! [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), johnlock - Fandom
Genre: Age Play, Binkies, Child Abuse, Daddy Sherlock, Diapers, Domestic Violence, Hurt John Watson, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, PTSD, Pacifier - Freeform, Spanking, Uncle Mycroft, Whump John Watson, baby john - Freeform, post traumatic stress disorders- ptsd, softie Sherlock, whump john
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2020-06-03 03:23:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19455313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaskZodia/pseuds/MaskZodia
Summary: Johns in a war he never wanted to face. As most things in life tend to do it gets to the point where even he can't hide away from it. Seeing how he's going on a treacherous path. Sherlock does everything he can to make sure his little soldier stays whole.(Will update every two weeks Monday)





	1. Finding Answers and Solutions.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever story I ever posted that will get chapters and updates. Please tell me how I can improve and no hate please this is a story I just always wanted to tell. I'm new at this whole thing so help me out as much as possible to get better hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if I don't post this now I never will.

John came stumbling out of the bar with echoes of childhood memories sending him into chaos. Buried deep into the darkest chamber of his mind till they came running out in a wave. Toxic poisonous sludge burning him from the inside out. Running like a coward towards the nearest bar, his footsteps mocking him with an irony of the past. The burning of a drink turning his fear towards anger begging for pain to burn it all away. Cause even a soldier loses his wings. 

6 months...

Sherlock was worried for John and that was saying something considering the guy barely paid enough attention to take care of himself. Sherlock was never perfect but he tried to get better at doing this at least for himself and John. But as Sherlock came to fall deeply in love with John and was constantly giving him his full attention and paid more attention to his mood and feelings. John gave him a heart he thought he never had. A warmth he never thought he needed and a real home filled with laughter and memories from arguments to sweet couply moments of intense love and devotion. 

So when in the past few months John was a lot more bitter than normal something was clearly eating away at him. At first, he thought it was the plagues of war again but he wasn't having any nightmares. And he always had the thrill of the chase form Sherlock adventures so what was it. No matter what they did together or the countless times Sherlock tired to figure out what was going on form deducing to talking nothing worked. John always had a wave of intense anger underneath him. No matter what those warm cute jumpers told you. He was a soldier from a horrid past and a drowning middle. That was how it was like for Sherlock until they found each other two very different people helping to heal the other and mend jagged parts. The abnormal couple in all their odd little ways. They were both each other saving grace. And oddly enough balanced each other pretty well. 

It drove him critically insane what was wrong did he do something to fuck things up? Was John not happy anymore? A million more questions swirled his mind till he finally had his answer. After the first bar fight and the way, John came home dead drunk rare incurrence considering ….. his family past. Usually after having a bit to much fun at the bar and enjoying his time hanging out with his mates. Even rarer when he did it to burn away everything. 

Sherlock could tell what was wrong with John as soon as he came back. All the pieces clicked and everything became evident. By the way his clothes were torn and the grime of the city streets on his lower bottom. How could he not of seen it sooner. By the few pounds John lost as to not eating properly over the last few months. He was currently two sizes down from his usual weight.   
He was just how Sherlock first found him slowly dying in a world he hardly cared for. But that all had soon changed when they got together the nightmares were less frequent and his hunger returned. It wasn’t until this first bar fight where he came back home pissed off drunk. Showing to be filled with anger before he went off that afternoon. Yelling to Sherlock he’ll be back. 

Now he could clearly see it was there all along. The tension in his shoulders and the moment when he stopped eating. From the bags under his eyes to his irritated skin. It was the shame on his face when he began to sober. That confirmed it the hate and anger were towards his past; being redirected towards himself till it imploded outward. 

He knew Johns past was tough evident by his alcoholic sister clearly having the same disease as with their drunken Father. But to what extent he didn’t know he just knew it buried deep. Deeper than either of them knew how to deal with. Except for this time, he couldn't help him. John wouldn't let him and they had huge fights over it that led him to spend the night with Greg. 

Sherlock was at his wit's end till his brother Mycroft came in unwelcomed and gave him one.

( I rewrote this so it would sound more like from Sherlocks point of view I think I did good.)


	2. Fail and Success are Two Sides of the Same Coin.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock’s trying to find a way to tell john about ageplay making the best of all the little moments.

The talk with his brother was eye-opening to say in the least. Ageplay a way to get in touch with one’s inner child, to deal with past hurts and to just let go in a controlled environment where the inner child is safe to play, to love, to feel secure. A way to live a childhood with love instead of fear and abuse. 

He could tell how much good it would do for John if he was actually interested. It’s a touchy subject just like the time they wanted to be lovers but didn’t know how to tell the other about it. So they just danced around each other till an intense case brought John to calling him daft for risking his life. Shouting for his heart how much he loved him and what a bloody idiot he was or both were for not saying anything sooner. It was an intense kiss filled with emotion and exactly what they needed to finally push the new dynamics between them. 

They were never one for talking about feelings but that night they for once fully talked about everything. And quickly they fell into a relationship with each other becoming boyfriends to intense lovers. Sherlock didn’t want to do anything that could break that. He spent years falling in love with his flatmate he be damned if he ruined it now. But with the way things were going if he didn’t do something soon there relationship could take a huge toll plus suggesting something like this could set it all off completely. 

How was he supposed to bring this up?! He spent the better part of several days in his mind palace. Dozens of thousands of scenarios came flashing through him trying to find the best solution with the least bit of consequences. 

He didn’t mind taking risks but this was one he refused to make a decision on lightly not with his whole world on the line. He had to do something or that world wouldn’t last for much longer. So when a scenario came to mind with the least amount of peril he knew he had to bite the bullet and hope for the best. As much as he hates to say it to leave it all up to fate. 

It was on a crisp Saturday morning John was off of work. And nice sleepy morning sex put him into a good mood. He made sure all that week he wasn’t insufferable and mainly just acted normal science experiments and composing. So when early evening rolled around and they were lounging about the telly. Him making rapid deductions about the characters and telling dirty bits of their lives. Hearing the laughter of John brought his heart skipping and made it that much harder to break the comfy atmosphere. 

"John?" 

"Mmm.. yeah?" 

"We need a talk." 

John sat up straighter more attentive and alert expecting the worst, “About what …? "

"Now before I say anything I need you to be open minded. "

"Ok." 

"No!”, placing his hands on Johns shoulders looking him directly in the eye, ”I really need you to be open minded. "

John looked at him but said nothing his eyes turning icy like a solider.

"We always had issues of communicating are feelings so I wanted us to have a safe word for when we need a serious talk to discuss everything. We would drop everything or anything in the moment and listen to each other. It is critical for our relationship." 

John looked shocked for a moment even surprised but then his face cracked and he smiled wide before laughing.

"Wow, Sherlock, I thought this was going to be serious and yes I agree with you that is very important for us considering last time. But man you made me worried- you know what it’s ok a bit odd since it’s you bringing it up and not me. Been meaning to for a while but never got to it. It’s nice to see you so ..."

"So what?" 

"Caring sometimes I forget you have such a big heart underneath that genius brain of yours with that sharp tongue."

Sherlock was shocked he hadn’t even made it to the main issue yet it was all turning out better than expected. He loathes these fools tale but he didn’t want to jinx things quite yet. 

He didn't know what to say for a few moments. Shocked by the sweetness of it all. He couldn't bring up the issues right now. Not with how happy John was today it's been a while since he saw a genuine smile on his face. 

His face shown bright red as he softly chuckled, “Well John I'm sure I have you to thank for that."

"Hmm in the all the best ways?" 

"Yeah."

They smiled softly at each other both surprised with today’s events. 

"What should our code word be? Something that really speaks to how important it is."

"Hound should be suitable." 

"Wh-"

"In for the case of Baskerville, we let fear and misjudgment guide us into… heated exchange words that still borrow deep; if we were honest with each other and just talked it out things would have been better." 

"Right, that would have been way better especially with you poisoning my tea." 

"Let it go, John, I only did it three times." 

"For as long as I live I will neve- WHAT !! Three times the hell you mean three times."

"Not as important as of the issue at hand." 

"Don’t try changing the subject Sherlock You bloody fucking cock if you—!" 

"Hmph haha ah", Sherlock screeched and tried to avoid his boyfriends' infurious anger! He ran around the flat avoiding Johns rath and making a mess in turn. He got through the easy part now the real game was on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one came out like a third person view instead of Sherlock’s point of view. I’m gonna do better on that next time so the story will come out the way I want it too. I actually wrote this one so fast cause I was so happy people actually like it! In two days it was all written and ruled out. The first few chaps will be fillers as we solely go into the ageplay. But we will get there so don’t worry. Thank you for the love!


	3. Sometimes Triggers are Small

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry so many mistakes I had to fix how I didn’t see it till now is crazy!

He should have guessed it wouldn’t have lasted, after the past few months of him dealing with his past. 

He finally felt lighter as if he could breathe and he had a surprisingly nice week with Sherlock. That ended up being a really good day of his. He finally felt back to normal, he was eating semi-normal instead of starving himself. His work at the clinic was going better than ever despite all the mundane things people get sick with. He finally felt as if he had some semblance of order in his life. 

He should’ve known nothing good last forever. 

After a boring day at work he arrived home late. Having to take on someone else’s shift as Sarah begged him cause no one else was around and he wasn’t busy. Never mind how she always says it’s just the one time and he’ll never do it. Just the same he agrees as always and goes along with it. By the time he came home he went crashing to bed where the nightmares normally came. Instead of the hitters of war, he was back home facing his everyday monster. 

The rank stench of alcohol reeking from his Fathers breath. Early on he was crying over wetting the bed to his ma when his dad suddenly came home. Overally drunk and could see his weeping son acting babyish. Like a flash, he marched over and grabbed Johnny by the arm. Despite his screams of, 

"I’m sorry! I promise I won’t do it again." 

"What did I fucking tell ya— about wetting the bed? Stupid piece of shit I’ll give you something to really cry about so next time this won’t happen again. 

"Honey no, come on he’s only six it happens ever so often it was a mistake. "

The harsh slap could be hard all across the kitchen walls. 

"I’m going to fucking teach this kid a lesson he’s fucking six! So him shitting and pissing on the bed should be over with I’m not raising some sissy!" 

His mother just sat on the floor as he screamed for her. 

All he remembers after that was the intense beatings and how it seemed to go on all night. 

He woke up suddenly, hearing his heart beat a mile a minute feeling just as scared as if his dad was right in the room waiting for him to scream. So he could beat him again for being a wuss, for acting like a baby. He didn’t register he had to go until he was almost bursting. Barely managing to reach the bathroom before he pissed himself. A now common occurrence whenever he gets these nightmares. The sudden feel of a loss of control that terrifies him to no end. 

Maybe that’s why he joined the army not only for the money it would pay towards his education but, also to get away from his life. Of course, he traded violence with violence. But he make the same choice any day to get out there. 

All day his skin felt like a live haywire. His office was like his very own coffin. Cramped, small, and little to no air. He was barely able to make it through the day as he felt his patience and sanity leave him. By the end of it, he was a tight little bomb ready to set off. He hoped he could make it threw the day without a total meltdown. 

He was so close, back at his flat with his boyfriend Sherlock nice and safe. He could make it without going to the bar to drown out everything. He wasn’t going to turn out like his dead beat drunkard of a Father. He wasn’t going to run like a coward towards the nearest bottle. 

He almost made it, till he turned on the telly and began skipping between channels. He felt frozen as he accidentally landed on one. Instantly he was right back, as a little kid being beaten by his Father for anything that came to mind. The image of a bulging middle-aged man screaming bloody murder towards his son; beer bottles around him as he beat him into an inch of his life. 

John felt like that little boy no, that little boy was him. He was being beaten senseless all over again. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t breathe he was stuck in the past. He couldn’t hear how he was breathing heavy or the way his heartbeat was racing. The world around him blurred and became dull till the screaming became louder and louder, it was deafening. He didn’t realize his body curled up into a ball and that he started whimpering; dry little sobs leaving his mouth begging for it to end. 

He could feel the hand that grabbed his shoulder and how much it reminded him of his Father.

"Get off! Don’t touch me! DONT TOUCH ME!"

He barely recognized that it was Sherlock trying to calm him down. He felt like a wound up string he had to get out, he had to run! 

He pushed Sherlock harshly away and ran, his feet turning him towards the nearest bar, shame filled him over everything, it burned. He didn’t wanna feel it anymore. He didn’t care what he did as long it made it all disappear. A pint burned the back of his throat as he kept more coming till he wasn’t that little boy getting beaten by his dad anymore.


	4. An Awkward Standing

Sherlock was hating himself. He should’ve done this sooner, especially with urgency of the situation. He had fooled himself into thinking there was more time. 

He should’ve been several steps ahead of the game. 

But he wasn’t.

Although his mind was a gift, it could still be a pain in the arse. It kept replaying the incident over and over again, all in explicit detail. The sudden stillness of John’s shoulders, the whimpers under his breath to the small mumbles of begging under his tongue. What John saw on TV had triggered him significantly-and after a few months he had only felt slightly better. Of course though, his emotions were still hidden under the surface. The fear in his gaze was hazy and his whole body trembled. Sherlock had quickly tried to pull him out of it before it could get worse. However, it seems that putting his hands on John’s shoulder had brought the trauma back tenfold. John hadn’t even recognized that it was Sherlock. Seeing all that fear and pain pouring out of John, as if Sherlock had ruined him, broke something within him. This, this was a pain that burrowed deeper than anything he had felt before. 

It reminded him of the moment in Baskerville where he claimed he didn’t need friends. He had been under the delusions of the drugs from the fog and still thought that being alone was the only thing that could ever protect him. He denied it then but now he knew that he never wanted to be the cause of the hurt in Johns eyes ever again.

And now, seeing that same pain in Johns eyes?

He should have seen this coming. 

\-------

A sharp pitched ringing in Johns ear eventually woke him. The dull throbbing pain in his head kept him down. He peeked underneath his lashes at the stream of light coming from the window, immediately closing them again with force from the sudden shock of light to his eyes. It seemed to strike the back of his brain and rocket to the front. He groaned and fell back into the abyss of sleep and no pain. 

By the second round of him waking up he felt slightly better than before, the pounding in his head had receded. He shifted off his side and slowly tried to retain balance on his feet. 

The slow creak of the door boomed in his head with force as he watched Sherlock come in. 

“Sherlock I… please.. Jus-`` spouted out of John’s mouth.

“Water and painkillers are beside you and I expect you downstairs in the next 10 mins, we will discuss there.” Sherlock said this sternly.

“Sher-“

“Hound.”

John snapped his mouth shut, shocked. When Sherlock first created the safe word, he never would’ve believed that it would be Sherlock using it because of him.

Sherlock left the room without another word. He snatched the painkillers from the table and swallowed them down quickly. After doing this, he went to wash up a bit before he was required to address the problems he had caused the night previously. 

Sherlock sat coldly on his chair, stiff and rung taught like a string being yanked in two directions. He barely even looked at John as he sat down across from him. 

John wanted nothing more than to run and hide, if only he could pretend like nothing ever happened. If only he could forget. But Sherlock said the word. He knew this was serious and there was no running away from it. 

A stiff silence settled between them like a thick and heavy blanket. Despite the pains and aches John felt everywhere, he still squirmed under Sherlock’s heavy gaze. 

“This behavior will not continue without serious consequences.” Sherlock said, his arms folding over his crossed legs. John stared at him numbly, a tiny hint of strange emotion flashing behind his eyes. “You’ve been hurting lately, John. However, at this rate you will develop a serious problem! Addiction already runs in your family!” John could easily read the emotion on Sherlock's face, and it was anger. 

Stammering, John choked out, i “I-I know. It won’t happen again. It’s difficult trying to-“

“John.” Sherlock clipped with his tongue, his eyes steadily appearing more serious as he furrowed his brows. “This is the third time this has happened, soon you’ll drink yourself to death”, Sherlock spoke rapidly. “You’re lucky Lestrade came to save you.”

“Lestrade came?”

“I called him and we went out into the city to look for you. He somehow managed to wrangle you down once you got yourself into a fight with some bloke, The pub nearly called the cops on you if Lestrade hadn’t had his badge on him. You would’ve went to jail last night and we would have to use Mycroft's credit card to bail you out.”Sherlock’s last line made himself snicker a bit.

He couldn’t help but look over silently at him lost for words. He could barely remember how he even got to the bar. Let alone how he managed to get himself into a fistfight. He was right he was lucky he didn’t get thrown in after the last one. 

“Can you explain all the events that happened the other day. Leave not a single thing out.”

Slowly he pulled air into his mouth and forced himself to open up. “After clocking out from staying over late at the clinic. I had a nightmare more of a memory really. Ha- I was younger maybe five or six and I had wet the bed. I came crying to mom in outrage from soiling the sheets once again. She was trying to comfort me before my dad stumbled in. Coming home from the nearest bar or hotel. He saw me crying and the stream of piss across my legs. He came over and gripped my arm tightly ripping me form ma. She tried to stop him only for him to hit her across the face and fall silent. I remember laying on the ground in pain barely breathing as he left that night. I remember screaming for anyone to save me till I was just a silent weeping mess on the floor, curled up into a little ball.” 

Threw out his little story Sherlock slowly raised one eyebrow up clearly not knowing about my recent nightmare. Usually when my nightmares come about he tries to calm me down either by cuddling me or playing the violin. I have long gotten used to or lack thereof for Sherlock’s need for sleep. So when he wasn’t in the room that night, fortunately I was quiet. 

He didn’t mention how it was from fear and not wanting his dad to find him. 

Sherlock has an impressive poker face but he could see the hint of sadness behind his eyes. With a touch of something deeper underneath the surface. 

Never say John can’t be observant. 

—————— 

Sherlock has to take a moment to steel himself making sure his emotions were kept under control. He have to do this next part delicately if this was to work. 

“Clearly I wanted to talk about this under... better circumstances but I can no longer put this off.  
John can you keep an open mind for me?”

John looked stressed once again with a touch of anger in his eyes. He clearly thought I was going to tell him to go to rehab. “Huh- yes I can but what exactly are you proposing?” His voice turned stern and heavy, “I’m not going to rehab I’m not that bad yet!”

“No I wasn’t going to mention that but if you do keep heading down this road you will end up there.”

John quickly deflated reminding himself of the seriousness of the situation and not to rise quick to anger. 

“I think it would be preferable for us to try something that I think might help you.”

“Wha-“

“Ageplay! It is a form of roleplay or power exchange between consenting adults, in which the participants play as an age different than their biological age. Ageplay can very significantly depending on the individual. Thi-“

“Wha wa wha? Give me a minute is this some sexual thing?”

“No it can be if you want it to though but I don’t want it to be sexual.”

John faltly stared Eyes slowing rising in confusion. “Ok uh, so you want me to act like what?”

“A younger version of yourself basically as a little where you can be free to-“

“ Wait is this about kids?”

“No its, ageplay has nothing to do with real children, but it has everything to do with being childlike. As adults, we all have a component or part of our personality that is labeled the inner child. …Ageplayers are usually strong and out spoken advocates against child abuse of any form not just sexual but mental and emotional abuse too. There is absolutely no tolerance for pedophiles in the age play community as in a similar vein there is no tolerance for abuse in the BDSM community. The adult authority figure can be one of many. Some common ones are Mommy, Daddy, Aunt, Uncle, Teacher, Nanny, Principal, Coach, Nurse, Doctor, etc. The key is that it must be an adult role, where there is some inherent control. Don’t mistake an age players interest in child-like things, games, clothes, shoes, coloring, etc. for interest in real children. Age play is one way to get in touch with one’s inner child, to deal with past hurts and to just let go in a controlled environment where the inner child is safe to play, to love, to feel secure. Age play is a healthy activity and shouldn’t be viewed as sick or perverted, this is about the inner child not real children.Many of us had a less than perfect childhood. For some that was because of abuse (physical, emotional, mental) and for others, because of circumstances they had to grow up too quickly and never really had a childhood. Whatever the reason there seems to be a driving need to seek out and capture the perfect childhood, which was denied to them as children, through age play. Itis a time of unconditional love and acceptance, with a sense of safety yet the thrill of vulnerability.”

Clearly flustered over the awkwardness of the situation and feeling embarrassed. Sherlock hastily readjusted his collar. Hopefully, John wasn’t thinking the worst of him. 

For a long moment John just stared at Sherlock in silence cearly overloaded by the information. Sherlock could tell he didn’t know what to make of the situation or exactly how to feel. John was easy to read at times, at others... You didn’t quite know exactly what he was going to do.

“You think this will help. You don’t see me as a child do you?”

“No I’m simply saying this could be a better, healthier alternative to drinking and getting into fights. You could talk to your therapist about it. I think she might have some good insight on the situation.”

“Um…. ok I will just give me some time to think about it.”

“Yes I’m sure this is a lot to handle. You can just say no and I will never bring it up again. I truly think this might help you. I wouldn’t suggest it if I think it wouldn’t.” 

“Right.”

An awkward silence fell over the room and neither were quite sure what to do about it. 

( I used the part of Ageplay explanation from a website about Ageplay and it described it in terms that I liked and I wanted to give credit to them but I lost the link if anyone knows who they are tell me so I can I leave a link and give credit.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys I was gone for so long. I had surgery over the summer and after getting better I got sick. Now I’m back to school and super busy. I hope you enjoyed and thanks for all the likes.


	5. What’s it All Mean?

It’s been two weeks since it happened. Things couldn’t be more awkward, they were dancing around each other and except for the occasional case. They didn’t really speak to each other, dancing behind words trying not to talk about what truly happened. It was trying to figure out what the break in between them meant. 

John was at a loss, he didn't know how to feel that his boyfriend suggested ageplay as a way for him to coupe. He couldn't get over the feeling that Sherlock saw him as a child. Despite him saying he wasn't, it still was being held over his head like a ball of glass. Waiting to fall and shatter him should he move to quickly. 

He even went so far as to talk to his therapist, Ella about it and the talk was… In a way interesting and eye opening. She was quite an open minded individual and her knowing all about the topic took him by surprise. She assured him that if he were to go down this path. That it was all right and it would be okay. She had patients who tried it before and it worked well for them. Even told him if it really bothers him than just say no. If not to give it a quick try and decide from there. Helping him gather up more information about it and why it was healthy coping mechanism. 

John spent hours upon hours of searching and reading up all about ageplay. Finding the pros and cons and what it all meant to him. He felt just as lost if not more so than before. He still couldn't quite look sherlock in the eye. He couldn’t get over the shame he felt for drinking. He certainly couldn't get over what Sherlock thought of him if he offered this.

One afternoon when he was on a walk after work. A balck van slowly drew towards him. The driver getting out, swiftly opening the door. By now he knew the drill and didn’t even wait for the driver to say anything before getting in. they drove to Mycroft headquarters. The city of London passing by in a blur. He only grew more irritated as time grew. Not wanting to deal with Mycroft's shanganes about his brother. From spying on the cctvs to the occasional kidnapping of John. To update him on the health and well-being of his brother. 

He didn’t want to deal with it.   
He couldn’t deal with it. 

He didn’t want him asking what was going on between him and his brother. Couldn’t bear the intense steel behind his eyes as he judged and prayed upon him. Filleting open his skin like a fish. Caught in a spiders web waiting to be drained alive by those vicious eyes. The little turns of his face to the silent push he would give you to do what he wants while thinking it was all you. Safe to say by the time he got there he was fuming he wasn’t going to let Mycroft ridicule him and make him feel like a fool.

He stormed in ignoring the room of silent men as they led him over to his office. Fuming with an intense rage. “Mycroft!”

Analyzing John in less than two point five milliseconds assessing the situation he had already planned for being put into place.

“Thank you gentlemen, may you please close the door behind you.”

The minute the door closed words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even think about them.

“I don't care if your worried about your brothers well being with me or that lately that we've had a bit of a problem between us. It doesn't matter that you care in your own weird way. It does not give you the right to spy on us on to yell at me when things don't go your way! I am not your little scapegoat! Dont you dare start analyzing me with your stupid patronizing stare, I’m a soilder dammint not your little lap dog!” 

He just sat there one leg crossed over the other, face made of steel. Eyebrow slightly raised in judgment or amusement he couldn't tell.

“Sit down,'' he said with a sharp clip of his tongue. “If your done ranting I would like to speak with you properly like an adult.” 

It made his face shine in shame thinking back to what he was feeling earlier. He hastily sat down embarrassed how he blew up in front of his calm demeanor. Losing his sense of control over everything lately made him feel extremely uneasy. He didn't know what was going on anymore. 

“What is it Mycroft?” John said cooly shoulders snapping back, stiff at the readiness of a soldier. Eyes going black and cold ready for judgement. 

Slowly mycroft turned to him. Cooly assessing him and knowing which words to help strike his point home. “I know what has been going on lately with the drinking and the fights. How he mentioned ageplay as a healthy way to cope with adult life.”

Pailing slightly he looked at him trying desperately to put on a poker face. “Yes.”

“Would you like to talk about everything I know you have your doubts and questions. I hope to answer them to the best of my abilities.”

John just sat there stiff and stale. Just staring at the man before him not knowing what to do, what to say or where to proceed. For a minute they just sat there saying nothing. And like a string under intense tension was suddenly cut a dam full words came spewing out of his mouth. Bursting out everything desperate to have them all out in the open air. He didn’t think about how it was Mycroft he was telling this all too. Or that not even, in front of his therapist did he voice out all these fears. Maybe they were closer than he thought. A lot more than he originally perceived. 

“What if he sees me as a baby. Why would he think this is good for me. Isn’t this all a bit silly pretending to be a child. Isnt isn… it bad that…”

“That what,” Stated mycroft softly, “That despite all of this part of you is considering this. That you should find it wrong but you don't. In fact a small part of you might want it.”

John was once again silent, the answer to his questions out before him. They were always there, he just didn't want to acknowledge them. 

“John we both know you're a soldier that you’re a doctor. That you helped bring Sherlock stability, as he has brought you. You are not a child nor does Sherlock see you as one. I don't see you as one and it doesn't matter what the world thinks all that matters. Is that it helps you it doesn't hurt anybody and it's not wrong. Think about it why did you keep doing so much research on it?”  
“Uh-I— I guess…” He couldn’t dare to admit it not wanting to acknowledge the truth. 

“John let us fully contemplate on this and I would gladly help, if you let me.”

They both sat there, John lost for words with Mycroft awaiting his answer.

“Ok.”

John steadily made his way up the stairs of 221 B. Indecision weighing his every step as he slowly tracked up the stairs. He quickly put away all his things and made a cuppa before he switched on the television. 

He heard the quick, light, fluttery steps of Sherlock working his way up the stairs. He put down the volume of the tellie and waited. As the door opened with a burst of air automatically being filled by Sherlock presence. 

“Oh! John your-“

“Sherlock sit down, let’s talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok from now on I will be updating once every two weeks on Monday. School is a pain in the butt and it’s no longer summer so I don’t have the most of time anymore. Anyways I’m so glad everyone loves the story so far. I’m pretty happy with this one it is late so please forgive mistakes you see. Wanted to post this one before Monday’s over. I realized writing this has helped me out so much and taught me a lot so far. It’s really cool. Thanks everyone and see ya later.


	6. Speculations aren’t always the best thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Be carful in the beginning there might be triggering words or just the one. Read the authors note at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be carful in the beginning there might be triggering words or just the one. Read the authors note at the end.

He couldn’t quite sit right knowing what was going to happen today. He could barely pay attention at work let alone with how mundane it all was. Trying desperately to calm down he let his mind drift back to one of their conversations. 

\---  
“Do I call you daddy?” 

“No not if, you don’t want to.”

“Good, I would be more than a bit embarrassed if I did.” A hasty chuckle went along with the glow of his face.

“A smirk lit up upon Sherlock's face, “Don’t worry as long as you feel safe.”

“Ok.” 

“Lets go over some rules.”  
\--- 

As much as the whole conversation made him laugh with embarrassment. The ease and comfort it held couldn't take hold of him like it did before. He was wound up like a spring that couldn't be released and as the last hours of his shift came upon him all he could think about was the fear rolling in his stomach. The walk to his flat was agonizing as each step made the storm in him grow bigger. He couldn't fight off the questions anymore. 

“What if this all goes wrong?”

“What if I’m just an experiment?” 

“What am I, if I do this?”

“Why do I want to do this?”

“You’re a soldier dammit, soldiers don't play pretend!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You're disgusting!” 

“You’re a stupid fucking faggot!”

“You deserve to feel PAIN.”

“Monsters like you don't deserve happiness...”

He didn't even notice he had made it up to the flat. Or that he was currently fighting back tears of unwanted hate. He didn’t know Sherlock had come to open the door until they were face to face. 

“Huh.. I'm sorry Sher- I--I-- my mind,” the hug he received was unexpected but oddly welcomed. For it was warm and whole, in batting back the worst of the words, of the ugly marks it left on his skin.

“Shhh- John it's okay if you're not ready we can still call this off ” he whispered in a quiet comforting tone, a hand cupping his cheek as his thumb wiped off silent tears. 

“No I want to, it's just” -his words slammed together- “Everything just started overwhelming me and I keep second guessing myself and the anger I have within me. J-just,” a hard breath escaped him, “This constant feeling of hate it's so deep sometimes I-”

“I know, from before we found each other the world tore us apart and we had to rebuild the pieces. This is bringing up deeper issues you have never dealt with and have hidden away from yourself.”

He felt relieved Sherlock managed to put it in better words than himself. He was always grateful that they made their way towards each other despite everything. The bloody bastard would refuse it if anyone else said it but, let be known that Sherlock Holmes has a heart. Slowly he drew his head up and kissed him, a soft one filled with all the things he couldn't say. Sher kissed back gently showing all the same.

“Do not worry for tonight we will heavily ease you into things. If it's still a go how about I draw you a bath. Even if not I'll still do it, having a bit of comfort in any form is good for you.”

A small smile filled his face, “Sure lets do it.”

The bath was filled with lavender scented bubbles. Reaching way over the tub in a huge display of white foam. A brand new big fluffy towel sat next to the sink. As with the radio playing soft melodies of the violin showering him in a wave of contentment. 

He quietly uttered off his clothes and sank into the warm mass of water. Soothing deep achs within and urshing a soft moan from him. Sherlock sank down next to him and massaged his shoulders till they were lax against him. - Suddenly colorful blocks caught John's eye in the corner.

“Sherlock what are those?” 

“Those are bath crayons made of chalk and a variety of pigments that you can use to draw on the wall when you get them wet. After you're done we can simply wash them off.” 

“Wow I didn't even know they made stuff like this,” he remarked in a whisper like wonder.

“Yes, amazing what the modern age can do if only they put their minds together,” A sly smirk playing at the corner of his lips. 

“Hah-- Sherlock we can't all be as brilliant as you.”

“Says one of the two smartest in the room.” 

“Heh.”

“Anyway I got it so you could perhaps find a way to distract yourself; should at any point you feel embarrassed.” 

For severely moments nothing filled the room 

A sincere smile filled his face as he grabbed Sherlocks hand, “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

The blocks were tons of fun to play with drawing silly images against the walls. Wiping them away so easily to draw some more wacky ones. It was not only enjoyable but pleasant he didn’t have to think anymore and just had fun losing himself in another world. Sherlock gently washed him from head to toe and they both splashed around the rest of the bath water at each other till there was barely nothing left. He grabbed John's hands and hoisted him up from the bath quickly dashing around him the fluffy towel to keep him warm. In their shared room he massaged John some more and put beautiful smelling oils and lotion all over him. Till his whole body was nothing but a heap filled with good smells. Effectively calming him further down not letting Johns mind to even have a second of embarrassment. 

Sherlock quietly ushered him into some pjs. His face flushing with embarrassment as he helped put them on. They were decked out with stars and planets; they were baggy all around his torso. From the fuzzy soft material they were made out of. They were soothing and warm and felt like security agonist his skin.

“Okay would you like to eat something while we watch a movie?”

“Yeah what do we have?” 

“PB and J sandwich with milk and biscuits or a ham and cheese one?”

“Ham and cheese please.” 

“Got it.” 

He snuggled himself into the couch and waited feeling a bit weird after such nice acts of care. But he didn't dare let his mind wallow on it. He just went with the flow and waited, thinking about what movie to choose. He still didn't come to a decision when he was snapped out of his mind by a blanket being draped around him, a new one that was woven. As he felt the fleece's wool it was as soft as can be and clearly of high grade material. He peered up at Sherlock in shock. As he saw him put the plate down for a second with a cup of milk. 

“You didn't have to buy all this stuff for me you know you could've-”

“Hush now, it was no problem I wanted to make you feel good and remember it barely cost a thing escaipally with Mycroft's credit card.” A deep laugh rumbled out of him.

John couldn't help but laugh with him. Turns out he didn't have to spend all that time thinking about what movie to watch for Sherlock only gave him two options.

“Do you want to see Coco or the Lego Movie?” 

“Oh the Lego one!” 

Sherlock swiftly put it in and snuggled up with John handing him his food. Between the food, the movie, the soft blankets and the sweet warmth of Sherlock. His world fell away with ease, the stress, the fear, the anguish of his past. Was for once away and he was not in the throws of its dangerous current. He was here safe in their quiet little flat of Baker street. 

————- Authors Note ————-

Hey guys I’m sorry I didn’t update for so long. I actually had this chapter written out right after chapter five but I was sad by my lack of knowledge on how to write better. All I could see where such dumb mistakes on my old chapters and felt heavily discouraged. Despite having the whole story already planned out I dropped it and tried to focus on feeling better and getting better as a writer. Now I’m back and I’m going to try to keep up my old schedule. I just hope I improve and become a great writer like so many others on here. Thank you for sticking around and reading!


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